By Molly Simpson

Each situation carries an equal and opposite blessing. If we qualify for that blessing by obedience to the law upon which it is predicated, then by law, it must come.

Whenever my family is going through something particularly hard, we’ll often say, “Man! The blessing on the other side of this one must be huge!”

Holding onto faith—choosing to believe—and then acting on those faith-inspired promptings (without letting doubt cancel the blessing) is often all it takes to qualify.

When the trial is small, the blessing might pass by unnoticed. But I take comfort in knowing that the more difficult the challenge, the greater the blessing waiting on the other side—equal in measure, just opposite in nature.

Several years ago, my husband was finally offered a job after a long season of unemployment. We were excited, relieved, grateful… and a little terrified. The position was several hundred miles away, in a completely new state and unfamiliar part of the country. After twelve years in our home, we were uprooting our life and moving our five young children into the unknown. To make matters more complicated, the real estate market had just crashed. Selling our house wasn’t an option—we owed far more than it was worth. So we made the decision that I would stay behind with the kids, the dogs, and all of our belongings while my husband left quickly to start his new job. There were simply too many logistics for him to wait.

We bought a beat-up, 20-year-old Ford truck that would basically need to run on faith alone to make it across the country. Then, off he went—solo—to pave the way for our family’s next chapter.

For two months, I played the part of a single mother to five kids, ages two to thirteen. I packed up the house, managed a mountain of moving details, and quietly carried the weight of it all. I had never been apart from my husband for this long. I worried about the drive ahead. I stressed over how we’d load the moving truck. And in the background of it all, our house still wouldn’t sell.

Then came moving day.

I found myself curled up in the fetal position on the bedroom floor, where our bed used to be. The weight of everything finally hit me. My parents had driven six hours to be with me and help, but even with their support, the task felt impossible. I stared at the long, sloped driveway, the empty moving truck, and all the boxes and furniture still inside. It felt like too much.

Just when I was ready to crumble completely, my mom gently said, “Look out the window.”

And then… a miracle.

Outside, our local high school football team had shown up—along with dozens of members from our church congregation. More than 50 people had come, unprompted, to help. They packed, loaded, cleaned, carried, and comforted—not just my things, but my spirit. My heart broke open with gratitude and relief. I couldn’t stop the tears. What had felt hopeless just moments earlier was now undeniably holy.

A few hours later, we hit the road toward our new life.

As I drove, I thought back on all the hardship we had faced in the months leading up to this day. I couldn’t stop marveling at the blessings that had unfolded in response. Just then, a verse from a beloved hymn echoed through the car—and this time, it struck deeper than ever before:

“Sacrifice brings forth the blessings of Heaven!”

With tears in my eyes, I felt an undeniable witness of truth wash over me:

Every challenge we face comes with a blessing of equal worth—one we can count on, by law, to follow.

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